Avalon Awakened
by Chupacabra
Summary: Old magic is awakened, new worlds shift into being, old wars are finally resolved. The magical world won't know what hit it.


**__**

The dark raven was swooping down, closer, closer, coming in for the kill. It landed on the mound of dead flesh. Calling a raucous rejoice, it dug its beak in. A high piping filled the air. The sweetest of bird-songs, it called for the soul to dance, the spirit to flare. The firebird came diving from the sky, head and plumage alight with the golden sheen of the setting sun, a creature of power. It plucked the raven from its gristly perch...

Albus awoke from his dream in a cold sweat, his head tingling from the buzz that he sometimes experienced after performing very strong magic. Peeling back the duvet, he shuffled into his slippers, grabbed his wand, and made his way slowly to the door. With a creak, he pushed it open. He peered into the darkened outer chamber. He suddenly had an overwhelming urge to wander. He'd never been one to contradict his gut instincts, so wander he did. 

Wrapping himself in his favourite bathrobe as a ward against the chill, he stumbled on a stair and heard an alarmed grunt from the frame of his portrait friend, former headmaster Rufus Inglesturm. 

"You all right, old boy?" The wizened old painting inquired.

"Yes, quite. Thank you, Rufus," Albus replied. "Just these old bones getting a bit clumsy."

"Say, what are you doing up at this horrid hour?" Rufus asked, looking very curious indeed.

"I'm afraid I can't say, friend. I don't quite know myself." 

"Ah, I see. Well, no worries! I'll keep it quiet. You know, hush-hush and all that. Jolly good fun!" 

Albus nodded absently. He was finding it very hard to think. The urge to leave his rooms was growing into a full-on compulsion. "Well, I'll be going on. Please give my regards to Vi." 

"Right-ho! Off you go, then." 

Albus continued his so-late-it-was-early stroll. Opening the door to the rest of the school, he walked quietly into the corridor. With a quick nod and flick of his wand, he set Jacques, his Parisian gargoyle, on 'do not admit!' until he returned, and gave him a short 'absence' message to read if the person persisted. He then continued his wanderings, down the hall and to the Charms corridor, where he began to feel that this was no normal restless ramble. He felt as though someone or something in his brain was guiding him somewhere. This was confirmed when he tried to take a wrong turn and felt his compulsion scream at him to stop, turn around and continue walking. He turned left, then right, up a stair case (hopping the third step, of course), down a corridor and another and another until he had lost track of quite how he had gotten where he had, to the astronomy tower. 

He narrowed his eyes at the stairs up, taking breaths much deeper than usual and dared them to do their worst. As he climbed he became aware of a peculiar feeling growing inside of him. A tickle, if you will, in the back of his brain. _Old Magic_, was his first thought. _Some fool is invoking the Old Ones._ He felt a rage growing at this person- how dare they bring such danger down upon his school? Had they no thought for the children and precious minds inside? Did they not care about all the effort that had gone into this hallowed place of learning for millennia? The sheer disregard for what he loved gave Albus the burst of hot energy he needed to race up the last spiral and fling open the door to the stone observation balcony. A blast of cold air hit him, but he didn't stumble. His inner fire kept him warm. 

He squinted through the wind to where a youthful figure was kneeling. A low drone was thrown at him in pieces by gusts of wind. The moon would glint off the figure's head, silver strands of spun moonlight were reflecting, blowing in disarray, ruffled by the wind. 

Albus strode over to the boy, for now he could see that it was a boy, and lifted his wand. "_Finite Incantatem!" _he roared.

Shocked, the youth raised frightened eyes to his headmaster. Albus blinked down at the child, the rage flowing out of him to be replaced with horrified sorrow.

Draco, he thought, _what are you doing? Why are you doing it? And most importantly, how did you know?_

**__**


End file.
